one on each side.
The young people would come in costumes depicting the characters of the
men associated with the Island history.

"Mrs. Eaton wants you to help her dress the children, Anne," Miss
Sabrina had announced, the day before the Fourth. "She asked me to ask
you to be at the meeting-house at 9 o'clock.

"Oh, I'd love to," Nancy had responded eagerly.

"It is very nice of her, I am sure," Miss Sabrina had added. "She
_wants_ to be pleasant." And a hint of apology in Miss Sabrina's voice
made Nancy suddenly think that perhaps Mrs. Eaton was not _always_
pleasant.

She remembered that B'lindy had added the Eaton name to the list of
acquaintances possible to a Leavitt.

The very air of that Fourth of July morning was a-tingle with
excitement. When Nancy turned into the village street it seemed to her
filled with people, all in Sunday-best and holiday spirits. The green
in front of the meeting-house was alive with eager, tumbling youngsters.

Mrs. Eaton, a large woman with what Nancy called a prune mouth and
watery blue eyes, greeted Nancy effusively. Nancy was a "_dear_"--she
said it with a rising squeak--to help her! There wasn't a great deal
to do--the little dears were going to wear white caps and capes and
represent a band of peace; the girls would carry wreaths of white
syringa. _She'd_ thought of it all herself--two days before.

"I'm _so_ glad to be rushed to _death_," she explained, patting down a
small cap on a small head. "Of _course_ you know my Archie is _still_
in Germany!"

Nancy had not known it, nor, indeed, anything about Archie, but she
nodded sympathetically.

"Cyrus Eaton says I'm a _wonder_--just a wonder! But I _suppose_ I
ought to be thankful my Archie's come through without losing any of his
arms or legs! Now, my _dear_, if you'll fix the _rest_ of these
children I'll run down and look at the Indian Chiefs. _Bless_ me, I
don't know _what_ Webb'd do without me. But _then_, I'm glad to do
it--it keeps my _mind_ off Archie." She panted off with a patronizing
smile that took in Nancy and the group of staring youngsters.

To Nancy, whose life had been spent mostly in the big cities of the
world, this glimpse of village life was a novel experience. She loved
it--the spontaneous gaiety of it all, the round-eyed children that
crowded to her, noisily clamoring to have their "things" put on. The
notes of a bugle floated up the street. Fire crackers popped off with
the reg